Thirty Things Emma Swan is Not Allowed To Do
by K. A. Carlyle
Summary: Just thirty of the many, many things Emma and those around her have done in Storybrooke that were probably not the best-advised plans. Rated T for possible language later on, as well as...Captain Innuendo. 30 quick chapters - most will be humor!
1. Rule 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. In case that was not clear.**

* * *

Emma slammed her foot on the brakes a moment before collision. "Woah, sorry Regina," she announced, rolling down the window to greet the Queen's terrified expression head-on. "Didn't see you there. All that black, you know...you blend in."

Regina took only a moment to recover from the shock, before replying scathingly, "you need to get the brakes on that...that..._yellow metal monstrosity_ inspected, Miss Swan."

Emma shrugged. "No, really. My fault." Regina had hardly managed to step out of the way before Emma took off once again down the street, moving so quickly that the Queen's perfectly manicured hair was completely mussed in the wind her car created.

* * *

"Must you always do that?" Snow asked, not turning around from where she stood in the window of her apartment as Emma walked through the door and dropped her keys on the counter.

"Do what?" Emma asked innocently.

Snow turned around, curling her fingers more tightly around the cup of coffee she held in her hands. "You know 'what.' That's the third time this week you've almost hit Regina with your car."

"Not true!" Emma protested defensively. "Not that first time-remember? I only crashed into the hedge around her yard."

"Yes," Snow agreed in a frighteningly level voice, "and there's still a gaping hole in the middle of it. Isn't there some other outlet for your frustration?"

Emma shrugged. "I suppose I could try taking apart the toaster again."

Snow nearly choked on her coffee. "Absolutely not! Unless you're planning to pay for a new one this time."

"What can I say?" Emma asked. "It's fun, I'm not hurting anyone, I'm getting pretty good at it..." she trailed off, thinking for a moment before adding, "...Regina looks like a terrified raccoon until I hit the brakes..."

Snow shook her head sadly. Her eyes took on that faraway look that disappointed mothers often got before grounding their children. "Here's an idea. Why not spend a little more time with your son? That'll still annoy Regina, and it's a little healthier for you...not to mention fighting with those wooden swords is the closest thing to a sport that either of you have done in a while..."

Emma, who was digging through the drawers in Snow's kitchen, whipped out a spoon and brandished it at her mother accusingly. "Hey! Chasing the mayor with my car is a sport, too. It's like catch-and-release fishing."

Snow rolled her eyes. "Well, if it _were_ a sport, one good thing would come of it..." When Emma looked mildly confused, her mother continued, "we'd get to go watch you at the Olympics!"

Emma sighed, dropping her spoon on the counter with a loud _"clink"_ and reaching once again for her keys. "That's it. I'm going out again."

Snow set down her coffee, looking alarmed. "Going out? Where?"

Emma attempted a smile, but effected a grimace. "To terrorize Mr. Gold, this time. Don't worry, I'll be back..."

* * *

**Rule #1: Terrorizing Regina with a yellow VW Bug is not a sport. **


	2. Rule 2

**A/N: A big "thank you" to the people who reviewed! It means the world to me. Also, know that these next few chapters may be a little strange...but I guess that's kinda the idea. Hope you like them! There will be a new Rule posted at the end of each chapter. **

* * *

Emma sat at the island in Snow's kitchen, kicking her feet against the legs of her stool and picking at the skin of an orange as she waited for her parents to come downstairs. It was nearly nine thirty; even on a Saturday, it was unusual for Snow to sleep much later than nine.

Emma wasn't surprised when her mother came running down the stairs not five minutes later, brushing her teeth on her way. Upon reaching the kitchen sink, Snow spit out a mouthful of toothpaste and rinsed it down the drain, then dropped her toothbrush in a cup on the countertop. "It's almost nine forty-five!" she announced furiously. "Half my morning's gone!" Then, turning to Emma, she added, "why didn't you wake me?"

Emma shrugged. "Sorry. I figured you might shoot an arrow through my eye socket or something, Katniss."

"Oh, give it up." Ironically, Snow grabbed a bright red apple from the fruit dish on the counter and bit into it. "You knew I could shoot a bow even before we got stuck in the Enchanted Forest. It's not like it's news to you."

Emma had nothing to say to that. After another moment of the two women silently eating their fruit, Snow asked, "so what have you been up to while I've been sleeping?"

Emma grinned, dropping her orange so quickly it nearly rolled onto the floor. "I was hoping you'd ask that. I had an excellent thought."

Snow raised a skeptical eyebrow, hoping this wasn't as bad as she guessed it was.

"You're all pretty much living Disney characters, right?"

Slowly, Snow nodded, then swallowed her bite of apple and put the fruit down. Her full attention now on her daughter, she asked warily, "where are you going with this?"

Emma looked mildly amused at her mother's expression. "We should have some kind of big reunion party...like, a Disney movie and sing-along night. It would be fun...not to mention hilarious."

Snow, who had taken another quick bite of her apple in the middle of Emma's sentence, quickly spat the mouthful into the sink. "Emma!" she cried, looking up in something akin to shock. "What on Earth is wrong with you?"

Charming chose that moment to come down the stairs, scratching his head slowly in a state of half-wakefulness. "What's wrong with Emma?" he echoed through a massive yawn, which he then proceeded to muffle with his sleeve.

Snow whirled around to glare at her husband, as if this were his fault. "Emma thinks it would be _funny _to get the fairy tale characters together for a singalong movie night," she spat, as if the words were poison in her mouth.

Charming, uncomprehending, shuffled over to the couch, muttering, "that's great, honey."

Snow grabbed her apple and tossed it violently into the trash can under the sink. Emma flinched slightly, as if anticipating the same fate for herself. Now she'd done it. _No more brilliant ideas before ten o'clock._

Snow turned and marched up the stairs. "I'm going to find Henry," she announced somewhat shrilly. "He's the only sane one in this house!"

Emma opened her mouth to speak, but Snow whirled around from the staircase and hissed a venom-filled "_NO," _brandishing her toothbrush at her daughter like a sword. Emma's mouth quickly closed.

Snow continued up the stairs without another word, Charming and Emma staring wide-eyed after her as if she had sprouted another head.

Charming frowned, turning to face Emma. "Looks like I woke up a little early this morning..."

* * *

**Rule #2: Hosting a fairy-tale singalong night is not a good idea.**


	3. Rule 3

**A/N: Two chapters in one day? I amaze myself. 0.0**

* * *

Snow moved expertly through the forest trails, clearly searching for a specific spot. "I don't fancy you calling me Katniss for the rest of my life, Emma," she called over her shoulder. "So I figure it's about time you learn a little bit about archery yourself."

Emma grumbled something under her breath as she once again tripped over a protruding root across her path. "Yeah," she muttered to herself mutinously. "You can teach me how to shoot myself through the head."

Snow continued on, not having heard her. "The best path is the path less traveled," she announced brightly as Emma picked her way around a massive pile of off-smelling leaves. She didn't know what had lived in there, but she was beginning to wonder if it had died.

"Yes, true," Emma replied bitterly. "But the path never traveled is often the one that leads to a grim fate. I'm sure you're familiar with the tale of Hansel and Gretel? Little Red Riding Hood?"

Snow shrugged the comment off. "Glad pessimism isn't contagious," she chirped.

"Yeah, well, that makes one of us," Emma grumbled back. At last, Snow halted in a wide clearing, seeming satisfied with her chosen spot. She took the bow she'd had slung around her shoulder and thrust it into Emma's hands, not waiting long enough to take no for an answer.

"It's very simple," Snow said brightly. Clearly, nothing could bring her down on the day she would finally get to teach her daughter archery. "Keep your forward arm extended, turn your elbow in...when you draw, make sure your fingers come all the way back to your cheek..."

Snow spent several excited minutes going over the basics of stringing a bow, while Emma mentally made several plans for her family's inexplicable demise that she was sure were fool-proof. As Snow finished her lesson, she launched into what Emma was sure would evolve into an agonizingly long monologue about her childhood archery lessons.

To shut her up, Emma snatched an arrow from the ground beside her and strung it across the bow, shooting it into the tree behind Snow's head so quickly that the black-haired woman had no time to move; the arrow whistled over her head and stuck in the tree's bark not five inches above her.

There was an immensely long silence before either said a word.

Finally, Snow seemed to regain her voice. "What the _hell_ was that?" she demanded, and Emma began to feel slightly guilty as she noticed the tremor in her mother's fingers.

"I...um..." Emma stuttered, "...it slipped..."

Snow made a dismissive noise and reached up to brush bits of tree bark from the back of her pink sweater. "I'm sure it did," she replied flatly.

Emma grinned apologetically and slowly set the bow down at her feet. "I think we've established that this isn't the sport for me," she insisted.

"Whatever do you mean? That was an excellent shot!" If nothing else, Snow seemed excited at the prospect of her daughter learning the skills of Fairy Tale Land from her.

Emma gritted her teeth. "Actually...I was aiming over there," she replied in embarrassment, raising a hand to point across the clearing. The tree she indicated was at least five feet off the mark she'd hit. Snow took a moment to let the information sink in, then nodded.

"Okay, then. Maybe that's a no on the archery."

"Ya think?"

Snow gathered up her arrows as Emma gingerly picked up the bow. She looked at it warily, as if it might bite her, until Snow reached over and took it back. "I guess that's it, then, for the lessons. Is there anything else you wanted to learn? Ooh, I know...horseback riding is always-"

Emma held out a hand to stop her. "Woah. I never said anything about agreeing to riding a horse. Besides...I have a plan for the rest of the day."

Snow's eyes widened in alarm. "You do?"

"I do," Emma agreed very matter-of-factly, as she shed her brown leather jacket and slung it over her shoulder like a bindle.

"Am I going to like it?"

Emma grinned nastily, then turned to head back without a definitive answer. Snow swallowed hard before following along behind her.

* * *

**Rule #3: Never let Snow White teach Emma how to use a bow. **


	4. Rule 4

Emma had known the moment the idea had popped into her head that it would be a bad one. So, why she'd gone through with it anyway was completely a mystery to her. As if to give herself some false sense of security, she took several big steps back from her mother, not about to say anything rude, but not about to get her head blown off either.

"If this is some kind of revenge for me making you shoot a bow this morning, I'm really sorry!" Snow hollered through the thick set of earmuffs she was wearing. Emma brought a hand to her forehead to fight her oncoming migraine; she felt sometimes as if she was the one doing the mothering.

Snow's hands shook as she once again raised the handgun the way Emma had shown her and fired a shot at the makeshift target - a tall stack of firewood - in the distance. The noise from the shot rang out like a clap of thunder, and Emma found herself clawing at the side of her head to keep her ears from ringing.

Snow threw the gun down at her feet, watching it numbly as it skittered through the dirt. "I'm sorry!" she announced in a voice that was about an octave higher than it usually should have been. "I'm done! I can't do this! It's too violent."

Emma shrugged, though she was secretly profusely thanking whichever god was listening within her mind. Teaching her mother how to shoot had been her idea of payback, but she was starting to realize that it was almost worse for _her_.

"Let's go h-"

Snow squeaked in surprise as she kicked the gun with the toe of her boot and it accidentally sent another shot flying through the trees. Emma leapt about a foot in the air; she was all but clawing off the bark of the tree behind her in fright only a moment later.

"Sorry!" Snow squeaked, frightened. "I didn't realize it would do that..."

Emma managed to peel herself off of the tree she'd been clinging to, composing herself in a matter of seconds. "No, it's fine," she insisted. "I, er-ahem-" she cleared her throat to dispel the high catch in it, then tried again. "It's okay. I've done that loads of times."

Snow took a step away from the gun, watching it as warily as if it were alive. "Really?"

"Of course." The lie slipped off Emma's tongue as easily as water from a duck's feathers. She was just glad that her superpower hadn't been inherited from her mom, or else she'd really be in trouble.

"Okay." Snow nodded shakily and held out her hands to the ground, indicating the gun. "Go on. You pick it up, I'm still too scared to."

Emma's fingers were still trembling from the fright herself, but she wasn't about to admit it. "N-no, that's okay. I think you should take it. It's best for you to overcome your fears."

Snow took another step away from the gun. "No, no, I insist. Please, take it."

"But that would be so impolite of me. Robbing you of the chance to beat your fear? What kind of a daughter would I be?"

"No, don't be ridiculous! Please. I'm never touching one of those things ever again."

"Don't think like that! I thought you were the optimist in this family."

"It's a selective thing. Right now, not so much."

"You're the worst liar in the world."

"I'm afraid my daughter must be rubbing off on me, then."

The two women bickered for several more minutes, until there was a rustling in the bushes behind them and they each nearly leapt out of their skins. A second later, Charming appeared, looking concerned. "Everything okay?" he asked. "I was starting to worry about you guys."

"We're fine," Snow and Emma hastened in unison. They shared a quick look, then turned back to glare at Charming as if he'd ruined some invaluable bonding moment.

Charming held his hands up and began to back away. "Sorry, I just-"

Emma snapped at him to cut him off, then accusingly indicated the gun with an index finger. "Pick it up."

Slowly, Charming walked over and picked up the gun. "Oookay...why-"

Emma raised an eyebrow at him and graced him with a look that seemed capable of murdering from miles away. "Don't ask questions in this town. You never get good answers."

Charming held his hands up in defeat. "Sure. Whatever." Snow and Emma watched him walk away, waiting a good minute after he had disappeared into the trees around them before following, as if the gun may go off again.

"Some day, this will be one of those funny stories," Snow teased, linking an arm with her daughter's affectionately. "You know, the ones that you think about and can't help but smile at them."

It was barely five minutes later before they began to look back and laugh.

* * *

**Rule #4: Never let Emma teach Snow White how to use a gun.**


	5. Rule 5

Neal Cassidy's head peered around the corner of the hedge wall, then snapped back almost just as quickly. He waited a moment before looking around the hedge again, and this time, he got the information he was looking for; Regina's car was gone from the driveway, and the lights were off in the house. He stood up from where he was hidden against the wall of greenery and made a hunched-over run for the front door, simultaneously making a beckoning motion towards the side wall of the house. A moment later, Emma Swan darted around the corner to meet him at the front door, grinning broadly despite herself. "This is a really bad idea," she informed him in a low voice, though she didn't hesitate in fishing a set of lock-picks out of her pockets and handing them to the man beside her.

"That's why we're doing it," Neal replied brightly. He grabbed the tiny object out of her hand and quickly began to pick at the lock on Regina's front door, finally stepping back with a satisfied nod and kicking it open with a foot. "There. Easy."

Emma darted through the door as if she were scared that the Evil Queen would rise out of the hedge and come after her if she stayed outside. Neal sauntered after her much more slowly, even taking the time to snatch an apple out of the bowl in the front hall and take a loud bite from it. Emma flinched and closed the door. "I don't like this," she announced.

Neal shook the apple in his hand at her. "Remind me again what the point of this is?"

Emma gave him a long, unamused look, but he only stared back and waited for her response. Finally, the blonde sighed and monotoned, "to prove we can still steal stuff like back in Oregon."

Neal nodded. "Exactly. So we're here. What's something Regina couldn't stand to lose that we can steal from her? You know, as far as making a point goes."

Emma thought for a moment. Then, eyes widening in excitement, she turned and bolted up the stairs without another word. Neal considered following her, then thought better of it and instead leaned back against the front door, taking another bite of his apple. She'd be back...eventually.

* * *

It was nearly two hours later when Neal and Emma walked into Granny's and claimed a booth by the back door. Almost immediately, Ruby broke off from tending the bar to bring them a set of menus, but Emma waved her away with a hand. When she was sure Red wasn't going to come bother them, she lifted her hand over the edge of the table to demonstrate what she'd stolen; Neal nodded, impressed, but mildly confused.

"Regina's...shoes," he clarified, giving Emma a lost look that told her he was seriously concerned for her sanity.

Emma sighed and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "She's always wearing these shoes. _Always_. Doesn't matter if it's raining, snowing, flooding...she's got these ridiculous things with her."

Neal shrugged in consent. "All right. What else did you get? I mean, we broke in to a bunch of places..."

Emma dug through the bag she'd been carrying, finally pulling out a thick, leather-bound book, a velvety-red cloak, and a black-and gold walking cane. Neal frowned. "Isn't that my dad's?"

Emma looked wary. "...maybe."

"Just checking. Carry on."

"Well, the cape's Charming's," Emma told him. "He's weirdly obsessed with this thing. He'll just wear it around the house when he's bored. Snow wants to burn it. And, of course, you know Henry's Storybrooke..."

Neal nodded. "How could I forget it?" he asked bitterly.

Emma's eyebrows slanted downwards in disapproval. "All right, then. Let's see what you got that makes you so special."

Neal grinned, announcing brightly, "glad you brought that up. Let's see..." he had been carrying his coat, which had been scrunched into a tight wad of fabric, but when he unrolled it, Emma found that it was filled with magical objects and useless trinkets of all varieties.

"Where'd you get all this?" she demanded.

"My dad's shop. He won't miss it." Neal reached over and took a silver crown out of the coat's pocket, then frowned and put it back before inspecting a large seashell that appeared to have something glowing from within it.

"Can I help you two?"

Emma didn't look up as a new voice reached her ears. "Ruby, we're-" she froze immediately and slowly lifted her eyes, dreading the figure she would see. Snow stood over her with a dark look occupying her hazel eyes.

"Oh, heyyy mom..." Emma forced brightly, effecting a half-hearted grin. "I didn't realize you were here..."

Snow drummed her fingers against the end of the table threateningly, the sound of her nails growing faster and faster like a Death March in Emma's ears. Finally, she announced, "you're not leaving my apartment for the rest of the weekend, if this is what you see fit to do with your time." Emma's shoulders fell as her mom continued, "and you'll both be returning everything you took."

Emma and Neal stood up reluctantly, gathering their plunder and shuffling towards the door with dejected looks across their faces.

"Except-" Snow called them back. Emma's eyes snapped up in surprise.

Snow sighed, shaking her head mutinously, "_please _do something else with that god-awful cloak..."

* * *

**Rule # 5: Stealing Regina's shoes, Charming's cape, or Henry's Storybook are all very bad ideas. Certainly do not try them all at once. **


	6. Rule 6

"Hey there, kid," Emma greeted, upon seeing her son walk into Granny's diner to meet her. "How was school?"

Henry shrugged, indifferent. "It was okay, I guess." Very suddenly, his face lit up with an almost malicious grin. "I've got something to show you, by the way."

Emma's eyebrows shot up her forehead in surprise. "Um...okay. What is it?"

Henry slid into the booth across from his mother, shrugging off his backpack and beginning to dig through it to find what he was looking for. Several scattered papers, pencils, and notebooks later, he managed to fish out what looked like a medium-sized tree branch made of molten rock. It shined and glittered like it wasn't entirely real, and the aura of power surrounding it was almost suffocating.

"Is that a...a..." Emma stuttered, hardly able to finish her sentence.

"...magic wand," Henry finished proudly, setting the object down on the table none too gently. Emma flinched as if it might explode.

"But...where did you...?" she began.

"Mr. Gold left his shop open," responded Henry. "It wasn't hard to take it. He's got a bunch; won't even notice it's gone."

Emma leapt to her feet in terror, staring at the wand as if it were about to sprout teeth and leap for her throat. "You've gotta give that back," she insisted. "But...carefully."

Henry's shoulders slumped. "I just wanted to show you I could to it," he grumbled. "I can steal stuff just like you and dad could. Only cooler, since we've got magic here." Begrudgingly, he snatched the wand off the table and began to trudge out. Emma followed closely on his heels, knowing that if she didn't watch him, he might get some interesting ideas for detours to take along the way to Rumplestiltskin's shop.

As Henry reached for the door handle, still holding his wand in the same hand, the tip of the magical object knocked against the windowpane, and many things suddenly happened at once.

The wand shot a shower of gold sparks as it collided with the window, then was quiet for a moment before Henry's frustration channeled its powers enough to cause a massive explosion to erupt from its tip, sending both the boy and his mother flying against opposite walls. Several people, including Ruby, screamed at the sound, and Regina, who had just stepped in through the back door, was knocked off her feet by Henry's flying form. In a tumble of backpack pockets, high heeled shoes, and orange wand-dust, Regina and Henry crashed to the floor.

Emma leapt to her feet, bolting over to help her son get up. "Henry! You okay?"

Regina coughed, brushing off her skirt, and flicked an orange-flecked strand of hair out of her face. "I'm fine, too," she announced, to no one in particular. "Thanks for asking."

Emma gingerly took the wand back from Henry and held it between two fingers like a bomb she was afraid might go off. Again. "I'm taking this back to Gold," she announced firmly. "You...stay with you other mom."

Henry turned to face Regina, grimacing slightly. "Okay."

Regina pulled herself to her feet as Emma walked out the door, followed closely by many looks of confusion and concern. Regina quickly readjusted her hair and shoes, then turned to face Henry. "Why I let her keep you so easily is beyond me," she announced, casting a look after Emma that was as sour as if she'd just swallowed a lemon.

Henry slid back into the booth and began swinging his legs against the table, trying to pretend he hadn't heard her.

"I get that you don't want to talk to me," Regina began stiffly, "but just because the curse is broken doesn't mean that-"

She was cut off by a loud, resounding bang from the direction of the docks, near where Mr. Gold's shop was. Several people in the diner began to look frightened as they noticed the cloud of purple smoke rising over the rooftops from the same direction.

"What was that?" Henry asked worriedly. He tried to stand up, but Regina caught his wrist and held him back.

"I don't know," she admitted, "but it didn't sound good."

Henry leapt to his feet, about to wrench his hand free and run for it, but it turned out that it didn't matter. Just that moment, the door to Granny's opened, and everyone looked up to see who it was.

"I returned the wand," Emma announced, upon reentering the diner. "But, ah, Regina, tell me...do you have any idea how to reverse accidental transfiguration spells?"

Regina pursed her lips. "I suppose so," she responded. Rising slowly from her chair, she set out of the shop at a brisk pace. Emma couldn't help but snicker as she noticed the mayor's choice of shoes.

Henry glanced up at his mother and asked, "what was that all about?"

"I'm not good with anything magic-related," Emma responded in a tone that told him the conversation was over. "That's what that was all about. Now come on, let's get home before Mr. Gold comes after me for turning him into a crocodile..."

* * *

**Rule # 6: Never let Henry steal from Mr. Gold again. Ever. **


	7. Rule 7

"That's it!" Charming announced, storming through the front door and slamming the morning's newspaper onto the kitchen counter. "Hook's done it now."

Emma didn't bother to look up. "What did he do?" she monotoned, swirling an index finger through the whipped cream on top of the mug of hot chocolate in front of her.

Charming's face was turning slightly red with anger as he managed, "scratch marks all over my truck. All over it! The whole damn thing looks like a spiderweb...scrapes in the paint..."

Snow looked mildly horrified with her husband, if only for cursing in front of his grandson, while Henry looked amused and Emma seemed slightly uncomfortable.

"Um..." the blonde began, causing all heads to swivel in her direction, "...that might be indirectly my fault." She looked apologetic as she added quickly, "I'm sorry, but I kinda locked the guy on a beanstalk, then punched him in the side of the head with a compass the last time I saw him. He's probably not the most dedicated member of the Charming Family Fan Club, believe it or not."

Charming was close to spitting fire. "Why didn't he mess with your car, then?" he demanded.

Emma looked slightly guilty as she shared a look with her mother. "Regina kinda had it sent to the shop to get the brakes checked," she admitted. Henry snickered into his sleeve beside her, trying to pass the motion off as a sneeze.

"So what are you supposed to do about it?" Snow asked gently, attempting to calm her husband down. "There's nothing you _can_ do now, so let's just settle down and find something else to-"

Charming shook his head, looking about ready to implode. "No. I have a better idea. Emma, you're coming with me. I mean...what's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

"You can stay here if you want," Charming told her.

Emma shook her head fiercely. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world! Although...I am a little worried about how well this plan was thought through."

Charming stood up from his spot, where he had been crouched behind a large crate resting on the docks. "Plan? What plan? I'm just making this up as I go along."

Somewhat excited to watch her father's strategy crash and burn, Emma followed enthusiastically behind.

"How do you expect to steal an invisible pirate ship?" she asked at long last, having to jog to keep up with Charming's brisk pace.

Her father shrugged. "I dunno. I guess I'll figure it out."

Emma stood a little ways away as Charming began to run his sneaker along the edge of the dock, searching for a catch in the wood. When his foot hit something solid, he bent over and ran his hand along it, grinning very matter-of-factly. "It's a ramp," he announced proudly. "I've found it!"

Emma nodded, holding her hands up in a disarming gesture. "Okay, okay. You've found it. Go on, then."

Hardly able to contain his smirk, Charming placed first one foot, then the other onto the invisible ramp, then began a confident swagger along it.

...which was right about when his foot found nothing but the empty air and he plunged over the edge and into the water.

Emma let out a gasp, stepping closer to the railing. "Dad...?" she began in a cautionary tone.

Charming's head broke the surface a moment later, gasping and spluttering, and he managed to choke out, "I'm fine, Emma! Just mis-stepped...there's an emergency ladder over there that I can climb out with." His hand appeared over the waterline and gestured to a point roughly forty feet away from him, where several slippery-looking metal rungs led from the street level to the water.

Emma nodded, keeping her expression impassive until her father had turned out of earshot...at which point she nearly collapsed from holding back her laughter. She played the moment over and over again in her mind...then again on fast-forward, then again on fast-forward while mentally listening to Yakety Sax...

It was a moment before Emma was aware of the other person standing in the shadows of the dock behind her. "Hello, Hook," she greeted stiffly.

"Ah, well, if it isn't the very embodiment of my misfortune. How do you like my little trick with the ramp?" a dark voice replied from behind her.

Emma nodded slowly, hardly wanting to admit she was impressed. "Moving the ship and turning the gangplank? Nice."

Hook's voice floated back to her: "thanks, lass. Glad to see you're not trying to kill me for it."

Emma shrugged, replying, "eh. He had it coming to him."

"Indeed. I rather figured your father would try something like this."

"I suppose he's a pretty predictable guy," she agreed. Then, after a moment, she added, "and I also suppose I should be arresting you, for destruction and vandalism of personally owned property."

"Well, love, if you'd wanted to break out the handcuffs, you could have just asked."

Emma sighed, still watching her father as he floundered around in the water not fifty feet from her, trying to climb out using the emergency ladder. "I suppose if you leave now, I might forget I ever saw you here."

"And why is that, love?" Hook replied. She could almost hear the wry smirk in his voice.

"You ever hear of that saying, 'two wrongs don't make a right?'" she asked, while watching Charming slip from the top of the ladder and plunge back into the icy harbor water. "Well, in this case, they do."

"Can't I stay and watch-"

"No," Emma replied flatly, "you may not. Only I may watch my father suffer and laugh about it. Now get out, pirate, before you find yourself missing another hand."

Hook slunk away quietly without another word, while Emma fished her cell phone out of her pocket. In record time, she held it facing the water, hit the record button in the camera, and began streaming live to YouTube.

* * *

**Rule #7: Do not attempt to steal the Jolly Rodger because Charming wants to know what the "worst that could happen" is.**

* * *

**_A/N: Hook's shameless flirting? I regret nothing. Besides...I had to bring in my favorite character. _Had_ to. :P_**

**_Later, Dearies._**

**_- Kat Carlyle_**


	8. Rule 8

**_I had a lot of fun writing this one. Hope you enjoy reading it as much! _**

* * *

Emma Swan wasn't amused in the slightest when she awoke to find her son missing. Holding a hand to her forehead and cursing fluently under her breath, Storybrooke's Savior staggered down the stairs of Mary Margaret's apartment and took another good look around. "Henry?" No response.

Emma grabbed her phone off the kitchen counter, hitting the number four speed-dial and pacing as she waited for an answer. The phone rang for a very long time before a collected voice on the other end of the line greeted, "hello?"

Emma scuffed her boots across the kitchen floor. "Where's my _son_, Regina?"

"It's always such a pleasure talking with you, Miss Swan," the mayor responded sarcastically. "Really. A true intellectual endeavor."

"I mean it. He's not here."

"Well, he's not here, either."

Emma frowned. "He's what? What do you mean, 'not there'?"

Across town, Regina drummed her fingers across the table, letting out a patient sigh as she switched the phone to her other ear. "I mean, 'he's not here.' But know this: if you've managed to lose our son, I will never-"

"Save it, _Your Majesty,_" Emma snapped. "I don't need to hear about your plots for revenge, or anything else...just find him."

Regina's stunned silence lasted for nearly a full thirty seconds. _"Find him?"_ She finally choked out, sounding a bit strangled. "Why should I be the one to find him?"

Emma suddenly had an interesting idea. She leaned against the countertop, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl beside her, and bit into it thoughtfully. "I'm always the one to find him. It's officially your turn."

"I have important things to do, Miss Swan. I'm the Mayor."

Emma shrugged. "Then I'll take over for an hour." Without waiting for a response, she hit the red button on her cell phone to end the call, slipped it into the pocket of her jacket, and grabbed her keys off the table. This would be interesting, if nothing else.

* * *

It was several hours later when Snow and Charming got wind of some issue down at City Hall. From their table at Granny's, Snow's head quickly shot up to glance out the door, hearing someone mention her daughter's name. Charming paused mid-sentence, his complaint about his missing cloak completely forgotten. "What's wrong?"

Snow frowned. "I'm sensing a disturbance in the force."

"...and this is why the Evil Queen isn't supposed to create a town in the 80's." Charming muttered, rolling his eyes.

Snow's fist very promptly connected with his shoulder. "You know what I mean! There's something wrong. I can just...feel it."

Before Charming had the chance to protest, Snow was standing and marching towards the door. Charming grumbled something about stubborn royalty as he fished a ten dollar bill out of his wallet and left it on the end of the table, then followed after.

* * *

Oh, there was so much to explain.

Snow's 'spider-senses', as Charming so delicately christened them, sent her marching straight into Regina's office, at which point she found someone who was definitely not Regina occupying the mayor's chair.

"Emma!" the sheriff's mother squeaked. "What...what are you doing here?"

The blonde rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair as she propped her feet up against the desk. No one else seemed willing to point out that she appeared to be wearing the mayor's shoes. "What does it look like I'm doing here? Being the mayor for a day. Regina's off tracking down her son."

Charming came in just in time to catch her last sentence. "I...okay, I won't ask. But why is Henry suddenly 'her' son?"

Emma shrugged loosely. "She's Emma Swan for the day. Technically, her son today is my son tomorrow. It all makes sense! I'm not as think as you confused I am...no, wait. That's not right..."

Snow looked as if she'd just swallowed a lemon. "Are you _drunk_?" she demanded, ever the figure of eloquence.

Emma frowned, turning over the apple in her hand. "I don't drunk so. Er-_think_ so! These apples _do_ taste kind of funny, but...I doubt that's the problem."

Snow quickly snatched the fruit out of her fingers. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

"What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?" When Emma's parents didn't look amused, she sighed and continued, "like...two hours. In my defense, I had Yakety Sax stuck in my head all night."

Charming slowly raised his hand, flinching under the belittling glare Snow turned on him. "I just have one question. Where's Regina?"

Right on cue, the mayor staggered through the door, followed by a smirking eleven-year-old, who looked less than thrilled to be there. Regina's appearance elicited a masked snort of laughter from Emma, and Snow raised a hand to cover her mouth. The mayor's dress was splattered with countless mud stains, and she carried one of her shoes in her hand, furiously curling her fingers around the broken heel. Taking in her audience, she managed to compose herself, muttering, "kudos to you, Miss Swan...how you always make this look so easy, I will never know." She promptly went to collapse on her couch, peeling off her remaining shoe in the process.

Snow grabbed Henry's hand and led him from the office. "I think that's enough motherly influence for one day, Henry."

Emma and Charming followed closely behind, leaving Regina to scratch at and speculate on the mud stains covering her dress. "I couldn't agree more," Charming threw in wholeheartedly. Turning to Henry, he added, "one can only hope that you don't turn out quite the way your mother did..."

That remark earned him a punch in the arm. "Don't listen to your grandfather, kid. I'm an excellent individual."

Snow cast her a glance. "If this proves nothing else, we now know this: we _all _need some more sleep."

Henry shrugged. "I was thinking 'ice cream', but sleep works too." Then, frowning, he looked up at Emma. "Why are you suddenly so tall?"

"Oh!" Emma immediately slipped off the shoes she was wearing and picked them up gingerly. "I forgot these..."

On their way out of the building, Emma discreetly tossed the unsavory appurtenances in the dumpster.

* * *

**Rule #8: Emma and Regina cannot switch roles for the day. **


	9. Rule 9

Ruby Lucas froze as she walked out of the diner one Tuesday night, her gaze resting on the people in front of her. When Emma, Regina, and Snow all stood within the same ten feet of each other and weren't trying to kill one another, something had to be seriously wrong.

"Er...hello?"

All three women turned to face Ruby, and the werewolf was surprised to see that they were all trying very hard not to...laugh. She turned her head to the side like a confused dog (pun not intended) and walked up to them with slow steps.

"Hey." Emma was the first to speak, but she could hardly keep the smile off her face long enough to form the word. "What's up?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Ruby responded, folding her arms over her chest. "Care to explain-" she suddenly cut herself off as she noticed the scene across the street that the three women had been staring at. "Oh, my. Is that...?"

"My mother," Regina provided flatly. "She wasn't supposed to come here after the curse, but then again, I guess a lot of people ended up here that shouldn't have." She shot a pointed glare at Emma, which was lost on the laughing woman.

"Is she...yelling into a cell phone?" Ruby confirmed.

"Yep," Snow piped up at last. "Emma had an interesting idea to amuse ourselves today. Care to explain that one?" This last question was aimed at Emma, who had to wrench her gaze away from Regina's mother for a moment to talk to Ruby.

"I may or may not have given her the number for Storybrooke's Pizza Hut and told her it was the number for the White House." Emma wrung her hands a little nervously, as if finally realizing exactly what kind of hell she'd just raised.

"Pizza Hut?" Ruby's jaw dropped open at the thought of the diner competition. "We don't have a Pizza Hut here."

Regina adjusted her gloves and smirked rather nastily. "Now we do. Amazing what a little magic can do."

Emma shushed them loudly from nearby. "I'm listening!"

"...whatever do you mean by that? Do you find yourself to be humorous?" Cora was demanding into the phone at a screech, completely serious. Emma and Snow fell to another bout of uncontrollable laughter.

"I think she just sassed some poor employee in Shakespearean," Emma said.

"That is quite enough of your sauce!" Cora was yelling. "A what? No, of course that was not intended as a pun. With whom am I presently conversing? I wish to speak with this so-called 'president' that claims to have rule over these lands above my daughter! No, I do not wish to speak to your manager! I am seeking out the President of these lands!"

"Well, as long as she's tilting at this particular windmill..." Ruby began to inch away. "I'll just be inside, waiting for her to blow something up."

"She's not going to-"

Emma let out a surprised noise as there was a bright flash from the other side of the street, and Cora was suddenly holding a pile of ash and purple smoke.

"Did she just incinerate your cell phone?" Snow asked Emma in a voice about an octave higher than it should have been. Emma nodded mutely.

"Excuse me. I'm going to contain my mother now. You've had your fun, Miss Swan." Regina locked her jaw and set off across the street before Cora could manage to blow up anything else.

"Well I, for one, would like a cup of cinnamon hot chocolate," Snow announced loudly from beside Emma's left shoulder.

Her daughter nodded mutely, turning to follow Snow into the diner. "Good idea."

"And then we'll never speak of this again?"

"Agreed."

"...also, you're buying me a new cell phone. I don't think insurance covers 'incinerated into purple dust by sociopathic Queen.'"

"I don't know about that. You seem to have forgotten something." Snow ground her teeth and tapped her fingers against the countertop.

Emma looked confused. "And what is that?"

"We live in Storybrooke."

* * *

Rule #9: Taking Advantage of Cora's Ignorance Will Never End Well.


	10. Rule 10

**Sorry I've been out for a while, dearies! Hope you didn't forget about this. I've been working on it, slowly. Coming up with ideas for this is so hard because you never know how well a chapter will turn out once you start writing it. Anyway, I've been ridiculously busy, and this week is going to be hell, but I've got a chapter for you here. **

**Emma has a lot of massive, narrative blocks of text in here. I saw this style in one story and thought it was ridiculously funny, so I gave it a shot on my own. **

**Points to anyone who knows what the Sarcasm Sign is originally from. Also, my cousin, Meghan, is staying at my house for a few days, and she's brilliantly funny. This chapter is dedicated to her. :)**

**That's it. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Ugh, Emma!" Mary Margaret screeched and sprang to her feet a second too late. The mug of coffee she had had balanced on the edge of her desk splashed spectacularly to the ground.

Of course, it also managed to stain her white sweater in the process.

"I'm sorry!" Emma yelped. She dove for the tissue box on the edge of her mother's desk and quickly began to mop up the coffee as it pooled ever-so-conveniently over Mary Margaret's important papers.

Mary Margaret's face scrunched up in a frown. "I'm going to clean this off." She gestured to her sweater. "You...keep the class entertained." With that, she headed for the door at what was almost a run.

Emma slowly turned to face the rest of the room.

Fifteen sets of fourth-grade eyes blinked back at her expectantly.

"Um...okay," she announced, rubbing her hands together. "What, do I teach you guys algebra now or something?" She frowned. "Scratch that, I was never really good at Math." The class of ten-year-olds simply watched her, starting to get bored.

A ridiculously long minute passed.

"How about a story?" Emma piped up at last. Several of the kids had started dozing off; they promptly snapped back to attention as if they'd been slapped with a ruler. Emma smirked despite herself. If there was one thing she understood about the weirdness of Storybrooke, it was that everyone seemed to like a good story here.

Emma walked around to the front of Mary Margaret's desk and pushed some papers out of the way so she could sit down on it, swinging her legs. "Alright then. What kind of story do you guys want to hear?"

There was an uproar.

Some of the kids wanted to hear about themselves or their parents. Others were insistent on their favorites. Some simply didn't want to hear a story from their world at all.

So, Emma began throwing out suggestions.

"How about Robin Hood? I - what? Oh, you're Robin Hood's kid? Sorry, then, how about something else...anyone like Snow White? Yeah, I understand. If I had to spend seven hours a day learning useless garbage from her, I wouldn't like her much either. Instead, that's my full-time job. I...what? No, that was sarcasm. You kids are, like, ten. How do you not know what sarcasm is? I'm her _daughter_. Of course I don't like listening to her all the time. Well, that's good for you that you've got more patience than me, kid. NO MORE QUESTIONS!"

Slowly, the class simmered down and sank back into their seats. The majority of them looked more than a little peeved.

"I'm going to tell you about Cinderella. Want to hear that story? I don't care if you've heard it before, damn - er, dang it. How old are you guys again? Ten? Eleven? No, I don't remember how old I was in fourth grade. Seriously, that year did _not _leave a lasting impression. I almost flunked out of it, like, three times.

"I'm joking. Let's grasp the concept of sarcasm early on here, because I don't want to have to hold up a warning sign every time I open my mouth.

I- What? No, of course I don't _actually_ have a sign.

_Sarcasm_.

Anyway.

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Cinderella, and she- actually, you know what? Screw - er, scratch that. This is the Emma Swan version." Emma paused to crack her knuckles menacingly.

Judging from the kids' shit-scared expressions, the devil had just decided to pay them a visit.

"As I was saying, there was this girl. Her name was _Swan-erella_. And she lived with her two evil stepsisters. Their names were, uh...Ruby and Mary. But the worst one was her evil stepmother, the bane of her existence - _Regina_. Regina was a terrible stepmother. She was also really important to the town, because she was the, uh...president. That's right. The president. Of a town. Don't lecture me about history, I know what I'm talking about, kid! What's your name? Meghan? Well, Meghan, no more questions. Why? Because I said so. And that's a question.

"Anyway, Swanerella lived horribly, was monstrously mistreated by her terrible stepmother, loved to use lots of long adjectives to stall time..._yes, that last bit was sarcasm_. Jeez. You know how this story goes in the real thing, and it's just like that here. Except for the bit about the ball. You see, instead of a fairy godmother, Swanerella had a creepy scaly dude with a leather fetish to look after her. He looked uncannily like Mister Gold. Yes, Meghan, those are more long adjectives. Gold star.

"Now, Swanerella went to that ball, just like in the original. Except, when she met the prince, she realized he was a real douche and dumped him as fast as she could. Um, don't repeat that word. Only I can use it. Why, Meghan? Again with the questions? Because I said so, dammit! Er, dang it.

"Anywho..._unfortunately_ for her, Emma - I MEAN, _Swanerella_ was pursued by the creepy prince, who chased after her with all the king's horses and all the king's men, and continued to be creepy and follow her around until she packed her bags and got the hell out of that place, away from her terrible stepsisters and stepmom, and away from the Creeper-Prince. His name was Neal, just for the proverbial record. He was a total freak. But at least he knew what he was missing. If any of you _ever_ meet a guy like that, do me a favor and kick him where it hurts. Tell him it's from Emma Swan."

Mary Margaret chose that moment to return.

Emma jumped to her feet. "Hey there...just telling the little angels a story..." She grinned half-heartedly.

Snow White raised her eyebrows and shuffled behind her desk in an attempt to hide the rapidly blossoming, water-mixed coffee stain on her sweater. "Really? Because I'd label it as poisoning their minds and putting my job in jeopardy."

"What makes you think that?" Emma asked innocently, wringing her hands. She could feel every eye in the room on the back of her head.

"Sound carries through the air vents in here," Snow said. "Nice try."

Emma's jaw worked soundlessly for a moment. Then: "Maybe tomorrow I can tell them about Sleeping Beauty."

"_You are never watching my class again_."

* * *

**Rule #10: Emma is not allowed to tell fractured fairy tales to Snow White's students. **


End file.
